Sherlock's Birthday Present
by FromMyFingertips
Summary: All Sherlock wants this year is for John to stop cursing for one whole day. The two embark on adventures to the grocer among other things and the words John uses to substitute for every obscenity is beyond hilarious.


Sherlock sat in his armchair listening to John shout every obscenity known to man. It was well known John had quite a temper and with Sherlock's birthday tomorrow he had the most brilliant plan to rid his friend of his potty mouth.

"John I know what I want for my birthday!"

John stepped out of the bedroom still trying to figure out how to program the remote to the telly. "This son of a bitch still won't fucking work! I mean Jesus Christ! What does a man have to do to get the fucking remote to turn the telly on?"

"John sit down."

"I'm fine standing up."

"I SAID SIT!" Sherlock shouted in a loud booming voice as he always did when he was crossed.

John sighed and sat down with the remote still clutched in his hand. "What Sherlock? What do you want for your birthday?"

Sherlock grinned from ear to ear his cheekbones glistening in the light. "I don't want any material possessions I have no use for them.'

"Thanks for telling me that considering I can't return your god damn sweater now since the return policy has all but expired."

"Well you could always wear it. I know how you like to have the scent of me around you at all times. Just imagine I wore it and then tossed it aside. Spray it with some of my cologne you won't know the difference."

"You really are such a conceited bastard."

"That's what I want for my birthday!"

John furrowed his eyebrows confused by what Sherlock could have meant. "Um…I don't understand."

"I want you to stop cursing. For one day, no curse words."

John threw his head back and began chuckling loudly at his friend's one simple request. He then whipped his head forward and stared at him with a straight face. "No."

"It's either that or you play the new and improved version of Cluedo with me."

"That's a negative." The two stared at each other and for a moment John seemed intrigued. "If I say yes to this what's in it for me?"

"A much classier you and a penis of course."

John groaned throwing himself over the side of his armchair. "Ugh fine. If it wasn't for the promise of penis I'd say no."

Sherlock smiled. "Great. We'll start first thing tomorrow morning."

"Sherlock it already is tomorrow." John said immediately regretting ever opening his mouth.

Sherlock glanced down at his watch which read 00:05. "This is going to be fun." He watched as he friend slumped back in his chair and began to fiddle with the remote. "How's that coming along then?"

John began to speak. "I can't get this G…" He looked at Sherlock who was staring at him making him feel quite uneasy. "This…gosh darn thing to work."

Sherlock placed his hand over his mouth to mask his laughter. "Well why don't you worry about that gosh darn thing tomorrow? I'm tired let's go to bed." He patted John's knee which always sent him into a frenzy.

"Can we?" John asked looking at Sherlock with his big brown shoe button eyes trying desperately to soften the tall lean detective.

"Tomorrow. Now come on." The two then retreated into their bedroom and went to bed.

The next morning John awoke to an empty bed which wasn't unusual Sherlock always liked to get up early. He sniffed the air and smiled contently to himself. It smelled of bacon and toast. "TOAST!" He shouted throwing the sheets off of him and quickly dressing. He opened the door and peeked his head out making sure Sherlock had his back turned. He tiptoed across the living room and was almost to the door when he heard Sherlock's deep voice behind him.

"Where are you off to?"

John jumped slightly almost falling against the side table. "GO…" Sherlock tilted his head. "GOSH DARNIT YOU SCARED ME HALF TO DEATH!" He threw his hand over his now violently beating heart and straightened himself up. "I forgot the jam."

"Oh?"

"Yeah I was just going to head off to get some." John turned around wanting to make his exit as quickly as possible.

"Wait I'll grab my coat."

John rolled his eyes and collapsed on the stairwell. The last time he and Sherlock went grocery shopping together they ended up having a serious row on the cereal aisle which resulted in them being banned from that particular store for the next 90 days.

Sherlock appeared in the doorway and stared at a now almost crying John. "What are you doing?"

John turned his head slowly. "I'm dying."

"Well do it someplace else you're blocking the stairs. Come along." He hoisted John up by his jacket collar and the two of them slipped into a London cab.

The drive to the store was quiet and the cab driver gave John nothing to curse about which relieved him. The morning had been difficult enough and he didn't need any more stress than he already had. The cab came to a stop at the curb and John opened the door only to be pulled back by Sherlock's strong hand.

"I'm coming with you."

John immediately began shaking his head vigorously not at all comfortable with having Sherlock accompany him. "You stay in the cab! I'm going to get the jam and then I'm coming right back."

"Yes but I need a few things for myself."

"You can get them later."

"No I want to get them now."

"Sherlock dangnabit!"

Sherlock's eyes widened. "Well that's a new one. It's my birthday I can do what I want now just get out of the cab."

He did as he was told and the two of them entered into the grocer. It was quite a pleasant experience much to John's surprised. He picked up the jam and Sherlock picked up a few things. It wasn't until the soup aisle when things started going sour. Sherlock picked up a can of soup and tossed it carelessly into the shopping trolley. John took one look at it and immediately placed it back on the shelf.

"What are you doing?" Sherlock said closing his eyes in annoyance.

"You're serious? Alphabet soup?"

"Sometimes I like spelling words with my food…" He reached over and picked up the can of soup. "Words like…morgue and facetious." He dropped it back into the cart and could see John was reaching the end of his rope. "Birthday." Sherlock reminded him before walking ahead.

"Sh…"

"What's that?" He whipped around only making John more annoyed.

John approached him and stared him dead in the eyes. "Poop on your birthday!"

Sherlock scrunched his nose. "That sounds awful. We'll have none of that."

The two of them headed up to self-checkout where Sherlock continued to nag John reminding him of an incident not to long ago where he got into a fight with the card machine.

"Just go away I can handle this." He scanned the first item and placed it in the bag. Not problem there. The second still alright. The third this was going better than expected. The fourth…improper weight limit. John shifted some things around in the bag trying to fix the computer error which he managed to do successful. He scanned Sherlock's soup and placed it in the bag.

"Please place item in the bag." The computer said in its female android voice.

"It is in the bag!"

"Please place item in the bag."

John grabbed the can of soup out from the bag before violently throwing it back in. "There you happy!"

"Please wait for cashier."

By now John's blood was boiling and he wanted nothing more than to just let out a string of words that would make even his own mother cry, but he wouldn't give Sherlock the satisfaction of winning. "SON OF A BREADSTICK! GOSH DARNIT! YOU STUPID FUDGE FACE MACHINE!" Sherlock was sent into a fit of laughter upon hearing the words that came from John's mouth. "Can I slap you?"

Sherlock's face was red and flushed as he tried to calm himself. "No, but you can spank me later."

This seemed to calm John down a bit as he waited for the cashier to help him finish the transaction. John had hoped the taxi ride home would be uneventful and so far so good.

"Driver, can you stop at this sandwich shop up here please?"

John looked at Sherlock who was busy texting on his phone.

"Why are we going to a sandwich shop?"

Sherlock didn't remove his eyes from his iPhone as he hurriedly typed away text messages to anyone who would listen. "You're going to run in and get me a panini."

"Or not. I'm not Mrs. Hudson you know."

Sherlock's head shot up as he glared at John. "That was rude. Now you owe me."

John sighed and opened the door. "What kind?"

"Ham and Swiss." John then slammed the door and ran inside returning moments later with Sherlock's food. Sherlock took the sandwich and began to examine it. "It's cold."

"You didn't tell me you wanted it toasted."

"Well I'm telling you now. I want it toasted."

John shook his head and bit his tongue. "You are such a butthead. Is butthead acceptable?"

"Butthead is fine. Now sandwich, toasted, please and thank you."

John raced back inside and came straight back out. "Their toaster is broken."

"Oh well I don't want it then. Lestrade just text me. He has something he wants us to look at."

"No…no no no! It's bad enough I have to keep myself from cursing in front of you, but not in front of other people."

"Scotland Yard."

The rest of the day was spent trying to help Lestrade string together a series of murders which turned out weren't linked at all. John was particularly miserable having to call Lestrade a Donut Bag instead of his usual vulgar language. After a few more "Fudge Brownies", "Buttheads" and "Cookie Monsters" it was time to head home. John and Sherlock sat in the living room each in their own armchair staring up at the clock which was creeping ever so close to midnight.

"What's the first thing you're going to say John?"

John shrugged thinking of all the vulgar words he wanted to shout. "I haven't decided yet, but I promise you it won't be very appropriate." The clock struck midnight and John's face lit up as he closed his eyes and began yelling. "COCKSUCKING BASTARD ASS MOTHER FUCKER! SHIT CUNT DAMN SON OF AN WHORE BITCH!"

"Are you done?"

"DOUCHE BAG!" Sherlock stared at him. "O.K. I'm done."

"Right well I guess I owe you a little something."

John smiled and grabbed Sherlock's hand leaning in to give him a soft kiss. The two stood up and walked into the bedroom hand and hand, but not before John had the last word.

"I'm on top this time."


End file.
